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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718611">What We Waynes Dream Of</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird_elliott2020/pseuds/jaybird_elliott2020'>jaybird_elliott2020</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Son of Robin [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha Jon Lane Kent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Childhood Friends, Cunnilingus, Dad! Jason, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fingering, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Nightmares, Omega Damian Wayne, Omega Tim Drake, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Mpreg, Pet Names, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Separation Anxiety, Sex, Tim is Damian's Mom, Trauma, explicit mentions of rape, slowburn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:41:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird_elliott2020/pseuds/jaybird_elliott2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Trauma and how it affects Tim, Jason, and Damian. Plus, a glimpse into how Jason and Tim began their realtionship</p>
<p> </p>
<p>**I'm SO sorry about the ending.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Son of Robin [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Define It (Tim)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim is listening to his parents fight. Again. It’s one of those screaming matches about Tim, where his father decides to finally send him to boarding school and his mother insists they keep him at home. Tim doesn’t care what happens, how the fight ends. Either way, he will be away from them, on his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been this way for as long as he can remember. He’s a trophy on a shelf they only bring out to brag about. He isn’t a child, he’s decoration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim is fifteen. He’s scrawny, he’s an omega, he’s disappointingly average. And he’s smart enough to know that his parents won’t check to see he’s still in bed after they finish fighting. So he packs his bags and leaves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim met Bruce a long time ago. He was the person Tim went to the first time he ran away. Bruce was nice. He always had kids hanging around his legs and that made him more approachable in the beginning. Even when the kids went away, Bruce was welcoming. Safe, even.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Master Drake?” Alfred says when he sees the small boy sopping wet on the porch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need somewhere to stay,” he declares.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alfred lets him in and from then on, Tim is a Wayne.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tim first meets Damian’s father, he is dressed in a navy blue tux with dragons shimmering on the fabric. His loafers are velvet blue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim is standing along the wall, avoiding the crowd. The boy takes it as a personal challenge. He walks right up to Tim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re alone tonight?” he asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m here with my … yeah, sure, I’m alone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could keep you company?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim nods. The way the boy talks, makes Tim melt a little. No alphas ever talk to him. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy for things to go the way they do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>You weren’t at school today, is everything alright?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>I’m fine<em>.</em></strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>If you were fine you would’ve been at school. I’m coming over.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim doesn’t know how to say no.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It begins innocent and Tim isn’t really sure when it turns sour (or if it really did?), all he knows is after, when Damian’s father leaves, he cries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bruises pepper their way down his torso, coming to a terrible crest between his thighs where he was held down, open, vulnerable. He reaches up to his throat, scratches at the tender flesh where he’d been threatened with a bondmark, an irreversible claim he’d never explain away. For a moment, Tim must realize there is no future with the boy who’s just left him. He must know he doesn’t love him the same way Tim does. But if he does, he ignores it. He moves forward and convinces himself this is fine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>—like a good whore—</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s fine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Such a pretty boy. Open for me?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s tender.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—<em>why are you crying? I thought you liked it?</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>It wasn’t wrong at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He feels cum drip down his thighs when he stands and wants to be sick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The nightmares don’t even begin until Tim is pregnant. Until he <em>knows</em> he’s pregnant. It’s only because the boy is more physical with him now. He hits Tim when they lay on his bed together, calls him names that Tim doesn’t have the strength to admit make him sick. He thinks, for a little bit, about calling Jason one night while the boy sleeps. He thinks about calling for a rescue. But what would Jason even be rescuing him from? Tim isn’t sure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tim gets out of the hospital, after the incident in the ally, he goes to sleep in his bedroom at Drake Manor. Jason drops him off, doesn’t ask a question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been a couple of months since his parents died. He’s thankful he wasn’t home when he got the news, that he was at Titan Tower with his friends. He wasn’t pregnant. He took it well, but he knew he’d break once he walked through the front doors of Wayne Manor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim trudges up the steps and goes to his bedroom. It’s just how he left it. He doesn’t know if his parents preserved it, or just didn’t notice he was gone. He chooses to believe they preserved it, even if the facts say otherwise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His bed is comfortable. There are fresh sheets. The maid changed them every other day, whether the family was there or not. He falls asleep on impact, but he doesn’t stay asleep long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“My pretty omega, you look so good. Just delectable. I’m going to devour you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tim can’t say no. His mouth is covered. He can’t move. He can feel everything touching him. The sheets. The boy’s hands. Lips. </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>And he knows, no one is coming for him. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian helps with the flashbacks. After they get him back from his father, Tim is eased to sleep by laying on his son’s floor, by the crib, so he can hear him breathing. He doesn’t trust the baby monitor to be in time enough, so he spends most nights there just listening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Occasionally he wakes up in a cold sweat, the nightmare he’s woken from washing to the back of his mind, back into whatever filing cabinet his brain keeps his trauma. He forgets what the nightmare was, but he’s so afraid.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stands and picks Damian up from his crib gently and sits in the rocking chair. Damian sleeps soundly, letting himself be swayed and snuggled by his mother. Tim touching him, helps. Damian being safe, being <em>there</em> and needing Tim to be strong for him, that keeps the demons at bay.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time Damian is nine months, Tim is exhausted. He can barely stay awake on patrol. He can barely stay awake at school.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The most embarrassing thing happens at school. He falls asleep during a club meeting and he dreams he hasn’t weaned Damian, so his chest starts producing milk. When he wakes up, he has milky spots on his t-shirt. Liam, the club president, dismisses him, insisting he go home and rest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim quickly leaves, covering himself. He also decides, enough is enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He calls Jason when he gets in the car.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can you come to the Manor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Aren’t you supposed to be at school?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can you come to the Manor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yeah. Caught all my zs! Ready to go if you are sweetheart!”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim doesn’t have it in him to banter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need you to watch Dami,” he says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Me? Why me?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because Bruce is at work. Because Alfred had to drive to Blüdhaven to help Dick with a medical emergency he can’t go the hospital with. Because … because I <em>trust</em> you to keep him safe, Jason. And I can’t afford to worry right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Ok.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim hangs up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian is staying at Steph and Cass’s apartment right now. It’s where he goes when an emergency comes up with a case or in the family and Bruce and Alfred have to be elsewhere. Tim is trying to balance his life, he really is. His family, they help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That said, Tim doesn’t like to leave Damian with Cass and Steph for too long. They both have day jobs. Plus Tim’s afraid to show up one day and find his son has turned into a mini assassin while with his aunts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Early,” Cass says when Tim lets himself in. She’s pointing a katana at him. Steph is behind her, holding Damian protectively to her chest. That’s why he doesn’t mind when Damian <em>does</em> have to stay with them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry. I should’ve called,” Tim replied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian squeals. He lets Steph carry him to Tim before practically leaping into his mother’s arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey baby. Look at you! You got so big while Mama was gone,” Tim cooed, he held his son tight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Good,</em> he thinks, <em>you’re still here</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is everything ok? I thought you didn’t get out until five today,” Steph says. She leans over and kisses Tim’s cheek, greeting him through her questioning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim leans into it, then kisses her cheek back. He and Cass only share respectful nods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I fell asleep,” Tim says. Damian is playing with the ends of his hair and nuzzling his mother’s scent gland. “Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cass?” Steph turns to her girlfriend, who is already walking into their bedroom. “She’ll be right back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks. And thanks for taking Damian. I know you guys have stuff going on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Steph brushes him off. “Nonsense. You want a drink?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. I just need a new shirt before I go home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s wrong with the one you’re wearing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim moves Damian on his hip and pulls back the flap of his jacket to reveal two sticky stains over his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damn. Sorry I asked.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fine, I just need a new one. I’m having Jason over.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oooh. Jaaassoon.” Steph wiggles her shoulders and smiles evilly at Tim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian shrieks, bouncing on Tim’s hip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, baby, Jay’s gonna come watch you. How’s that sound?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian nods aggressively.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know you can leave him with us whenever right? You didn’t need to call Jason in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know,” Tim admits, shaking his head. “I trust you guys. I really do. God, if I had to leave him with anyone in the world it would be you two, but I can’t justify putting you out like that when all I need is like two hours of uninterrupted sleep. If it was for anything else, I’d leave him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So then … why Jason? Are you two like ‘friends’ now.” She puts air quotes around ‘friends’, like she’s trying to keep Damian from picking up on something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We aren’t having sex,” Tim says. He never believed in shielding children from the world, just introducing them to it in a safe way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Didn’t say you were. Didn’t have to get so defensive … me thinks the lady doth protestith too much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No you don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cass returns with a new shirt for Tim. It’s one of the spares they keep in the closet for unexpected guest, which is fair since their family is a bunch of caped crusaders and often don’t think to take care of themselves. Tim sets Damian on the ground and quickly changes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks Cass. I appreciate it. All of it,” Tim says, picking his son up again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cass shakes her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can you say bye to your aunties?” Tim asks Damian, pointing to Steph and Cass.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He chirps, batting his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Toodles little one,” Steph calls out, copying Damian’s almost wave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stay safe,” Cass replies. She reaches out and brushes a thumb over Damian’s cheek. He nuzzles the touch until she pulls away. Her and Tim exchange another pleasant nod. “Stay safe,” she repeats, looking over him carefully. “Rest.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will,” Tim assures her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With that he leaves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason is waiting for them on the porch. He’s pacing a little, but for him it looks casual. If Tim didn’t know him, he’d think it wasn’t born out of fear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting out here for like ten minutes and no one’s answering the door.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you didn’t just break in?” Tim replies. He gets out his keys. “I was picking up Damian.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian fell asleep when they crossed the bridge on the way to the Manor. He’d had an eventful day, Tim didn’t blame him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me help,” Jason says, taking Tim’s keys and unlocking the door. He holds it open for Tim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>“Yeah, don’t get any ideas. I’m just doing this because you’re holding a baby.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure, Jason. Will you grab my backpack out of the car?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason narrows his eyes to slits. Tim knows he’ll do it, that’s why he asked. Without a word, Jason turns from the door and goes back to Tim’s car, grabs his backpack, and comes back in record time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should hold Dami all the time,” Tim giggles, walking them upstairs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian and Tim live at the Manor full time at the moment. Tim hates it but he knows he needs to finish high school before he even thinks about moving out. Between Damian and patrol and casework and homework, there isn’t quite room for a job yet. Which means, he can’t move out. He keeps telling Bruce he’ll be out just as soon as he gets his diploma. Bruce tells him not to worry. That he and Damian are welcome to stay as long as they want.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian’s bedroom is less of a bedroom and more of a really big closet. Ok … it was technically Tim’s closet. The thing was so big that Tim couldn’t justify hanging up his only two suits and a handful of winter jackets, and after the incident with Damian’s father, he liked to keep him close. Tim didn’t think the baby minded much. He only slept there. Plus, his mother was just an open door away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You keep your kid in a closet? God, he’s gonna grow up so repressed,” Jason scoffs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim lays the baby gently in the crib.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No you’re not, right Dami? You’re a perfect angel, aren’t you my little warrior? Gonna fight those bedbugs tonight? Yes you are!” Tim is aware he sounds crazy. He doesn’t care. His son is his very favorite person in the world and he loves him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You need to sleep.” Jason is trying to keep a stiff stance by the door, but Tim can tell he’s melting a little watching Damian’s face as his mother tucks him in. Tim doesn’t blame him. It’s a cute face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s why you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason quirks an eyebrow and follows Tim as he leaves the makeshift nursery, closing the door behind them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need you to just keep an eye out for him,” Tim says. “I’m so tired and I can’t sleep unless I know someone else is up watching him. Or I’m holding him. And I can’t hold him right now because I’ve been having these nightmares and I’d hate to wake him. That’ll fuck me up as much as him. Fuck. Sorry. I’m rambling. I’m just … really tired. Please don’t go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m staying right here, princess. Don’t worry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. His shoulders drop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go to sleep.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim does. He falls asleep pretty quickly. And for a while, for a blissful few hours, he’s dreamless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim wakes up screaming. It’s not the kind of scream he’s used to hearing. He’s saying something, but he isn’t entirely sure what. His body doesn’t feel like his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A hand comes down on his shoulder and without thinking Tim scrambles away and locks himself in the bathroom. His back presses against the door. He’s panting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he comes back to himself, wakes up a little bit and is able to assess his surroundings better he can hear someone gently knocking on the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Get away!” Tim screams. “GET AWAY! JASON HELP!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim doesn’t recognize his voice. His ears are covered. He doesn’t remember doing that. God, he doesn’t remember a lot of things.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where is he? What’s happening? Why does he feel like someone’s coming for him? Why’s he holding his stomach? What’s he protecting? Who’s missing?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tim! Tim it’s me! It’s Jason. Just, Jason. No one’s out here but me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim’s hands pull away from his ears. He lets them fall onto the tile. It’s cool and grounding. Right. That’s right. Jason was there. He had called out for him, he knew Jason was there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you get him?” Tim asks. His voice sounds more like it belongs to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who Tim? Who do you need me to get?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you <em>get</em> him Jason? Did you kill him? You have to. You just have to.” He’s starting to panic again. He needs to know. He’s not sure if he understands fully why, but he needs to know that <em>he’s</em> gone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes! Yes, Tim, I did. It’s safe. Your safe now.” Jason sounds a little desperate. Tim doesn’t know why. He realizes it’s because he’s hitting the floor. The tile is turning red. His hands hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian begins wailing on the other side of the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim jumps. He has to hold his ears again, block out the sound of his son crying for him. Since when does he have a son? Does that mean … did he really do that? No. Tim wouldn’t let him. No. Tim wasn’t a mother. He couldn’t be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Get him away! Get him away!” Tim calls back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dami, bud, hey it’s ok. You’re ok,” Jason’s voice is receding. “We’ll go find Grandpa, ok?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A door opens and closes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim relaxes, sinking into the tile. He’s not hitting the floor anymore and the dull ache growing in his knuckles almost feels good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The world feels less like it’s going on fast-forward. He feels like he can grab onto things. He knows where he is. He’s at the Manor. He’s in his bedroom. Breathing. God, he’s breathing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Jason was there. He was watching Damian.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian is his son.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian father … he’s gone. He doesn’t have them. He’s far away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason finds Bruce in the study. He’s a little frantic.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason?” Bruce says. “Is everything alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason shakes his head, his arms vibrating a little around Damian, who is crying and clinging to Jason like a lifeline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tim’s freaking the fuck out! I-I don’t know what happened! I said I would come and watch Damian, just while he took a nap. You were out. Alf’s in Blüdhaven. He was just <em>sleeping</em>. God. Then he woke up and now he’s locked in the bathroom. I don’t know what’s wrong. I just … I had to get Damian out of there. He shouldn’t have to … to see his mom like that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason looks sadly on Damian’s curled lip, wiping the tears off his cheeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he looks back to Bruce, he expects him to look just as panicked as Jason feels. If not more. But he isn’t. He’s closing his eyes and sighing. Almost … annoyed?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fine Jason,” Bruce says. “Damian, you’re ok. We’ll get you a snack.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait! Bruce. Are you not going to go help him? What the hell? Do you know what’s happening? What—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason. Stop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason wants to scream louder. He wants to throw a punch. But Damian whimpers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bruce, what the hell is going on?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bruce gets up from his chair and takes Damian from Jason’s arms. Jason doesn’t want to let him go, but he settles a little more when he’s pressed against Bruce’s chest. He can’t deny Damian that comfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“C’mon, Jason, we’ll go have a snack,” he says. He’s gentle. Jason’s reminded of a time he would have sought comfort from Bruce, only calm and relaxed when he was buried in the crook of his arm. It didn’t happen often, but it was one memory from his first life Jason never wanted to let go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They go into the kitchen. Damian is quieter now. He’s no longer on the brink of tears but refuses to stop clinging to Bruce’s neck. He’s hiding in his grandfather’s shoulder while he makes a bowl of oatmeal and pours tea for himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tea, Jason?” Bruce asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason clenches his fists. “I don’t want fucking tea, Bruce! I want to know what the fuck is going on around here! What aren’t you tell me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bruce doesn’t answer. He moves to the tiny table in the corner of the kitchen where he, Alfred, Tim and Damian often have breakfast together in the early morning. Damian lets go of his neck finally and lets himself be moved so he’s sitting on Bruce’s thigh. He picks up the plastic spoon in the bowl and shoves oatmeal in his mouth, dripping some on Bruce’s pants. Surprisingly, Bruce doesn’t seem to mind. When had that happened?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sit down Jason,” Bruce orders, but it’s gentle, like before. He’s trying to keep the peace. Jason wants to be angry, but he can’t when Bruce is so goddamn reasonable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason sits down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He came to you when he first found out he was pregnant, yes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason nods, even though they both know Bruce is already aware of this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did he tell you anything else? About Damian’s father? About the circumstances surrounding his pregnancy? Anything at all?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason shakes his head. “I didn’t … it didn’t seem important.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How? What the fuck happened? What does this have to do with why he’s locked in the bathroom sobbing his fucking eyes out? God, stop tip-toing around what you’re trying to tell me and just <em>tell</em> me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason. Take a breath.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason takes a breath. It’s sharp and pointed at Bruce and it’s got childish protest in it. But he takes a breath. And it helps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason, Tim’s … Damian’s father, he wasn’t … Damian conception … it’s wasn’t … it’s wasn’t a consensual act.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason’s blood runs cold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’d never tell you. He’d never tell anyone. I only just put the pieces together myself. But … he sometimes … sometimes the nightmares get the better of him. They haven’t been that bad lately. Or at least I thought. But I guess he just wasn’t sleeping.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t understand. Someone … someone <em>raped</em> Tim? And they’re what, still walking around? Why didn’t you fucking tell me sooner?”<br/><br/></p>
<p>“Because it didn’t seem fair to Tim. I feel bad telling you about it now, but I’ve seen how close the two of you have been getting in the past couple months. If you are going to be a constant presence in his life, in <em>Damian’s</em> life, you need to understand that Tim isn’t perfect. That he keeps everything close to his chest, to protect himself, and he runs away when people get too close, when they find out things about him he thinks leaves him too vulnerable. He’s … he’s so young, but so afraid, so cautious of things. He won’t be easy. He won’t be what you think he will. So if … if you intend to start something, you should intend to have the patience he requires. Otherwise, you should cut ties. As soon as possible.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you saying?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m saying: Jason, unless you are prepared to deal with someone else’s trauma on top of your own, you need to stop leading him on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not—”<br/><br/></p>
<p>“You are. You may not intend to, but you are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason hangs his head. So many things are running through him at once. He’s trying to sort through it all, figure out how to move forward. Tim was <em>raped</em>, taken advantage of. Jason wants to be overwhelmingly angry, protectiveness blooming in his chest. Tim needs someone, but it can’t be Jason. Jason wants to be sad that he has to walk away from someone he has started to … no he can’t think about that right now. Tim is crying in his bathroom, locked away. Jason wants to break down all the doors between them and press his hands to Tim’s cheeks, tell him how he feels.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason <em>knows</em> he can’t do any of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where would I go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There are plenty of place who need someone like you. If you want, I can send you some files.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason gives a half-hearted smile. “Got anything overseas?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bruce nods. And that, as they say, is that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damian grows up a little more. He’s fourteen months when he starts saying more than <em>Mama, Jay, Hi, </em>and<em> Bye</em>. He isn’t stringing together sentences yet, but the doctors say it a side effect of not being cared for while he was away. Tim feels guilty, but sits with Damian every chance he gets, convincing him to speak by pointing to things around their new apartment and bribing him with puff snacks. It works. Tim is hopeful. The more he focuses on Damian, the more time he spends playing with him, holding him, getting him to talk, the less he thinks about how Damian came to be. It gets easier to fall asleep. It gets easier to wake up. It gets easier.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One morning he notices the bags under his eyes are disappearing, he looks rested. He thinks to himself, <em>I’m better</em>. He smiles at the thought, brushing his teeth quickly and going to rouse his baby from his morning nap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The day feels brighter. Tim and Damian go to the park together. It’s a nice day, chilly and sunny, which is unusual for Gotham. No one else is there. They go down the slides together. Tim pushes Damian on the swings. Damian chases him through the mulch, his chubby legs barely keeping up with Tim’s swift shuffling feet. When Tim notices he’s going too fast, he stops and lets himself be caught.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They both fall on the ground, Tim pulling Damian on top of him, peppering loud kisses on his son’s cheek that make them both chuckle. When they sit up, Tim looks around and notices there’s a family coming in and setting up at the picnic tables. He doesn’t think much of it, off-put slightly by the birthday balloons. He hopes there isn’t a lot of people.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim and Damian continue playing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After another half-hour, more people are coming and the park is getting full. Tim’s pulse quickens. He’s a little uneasy, staying closer to Damian than before. The other people aren’t looking his way or really paying attention to him, but Tim makes sure to know exactly where they are at all times.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the mothers comes over with a baby girl who can’t be much older than Damian. She’s smiling, but Tim moves to snatch Damian off the ground as fast as he can before she gets too close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi!” she greets, cheerily. “Would your son like a playmate? This is Emma.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Tim says, curtly, he’s pushing Damian’s face into his neck and looking for an exit. “We … we were just leaving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh,” the woman says. “You don’t have to. There’s plenty of room in the park for all of us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s ok, I have homework,” Tim lies. He’s never felt so much like a child than under the woman’s kind eyes. He grips his son tighter and practically runs down the street back to his apartment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they’re behind the locked door, Tim’s panic finally sets in. He’s trying to get Damian out of his coat because the apartment it warm and he doesn’t want him to overheat, but his vision is fuzzy and his skin is buzzing. He has to stop, try to quell his shaking hands long enough to tend to his son. But he <em>can’t</em>. God, he feels like a failure, but he takes out his phone and calls Bruce anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need help,” he pants when Bruce answers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Medical?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“NO!” Tim snaps, gritting his teeth. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the way Damian looks afraid right now. “No. I just … I need someone to help me with Damian. I’m … I think I’m having a panic attack.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Cass is two minutes out, can you wait?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can wait.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They don’t say goodbye. They never do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cass shows up exactly two minutes later, having to push hard against the door because Tim can’t move from where he’s pressed up against it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take him to his room,” Tim says quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cass doesn’t bother with niceties, sweeps Damian from where he’s standing, stricken with fear, and shuffles him to his bedroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim relaxes, just a little, but the panic rises in his chest again. At first it’s just a bubble. It rests in his sternum, next to his pounding heart. But then it pushes it’s way into the back of his throat and he can’t breathe. Fuck. He can’t breathe. He needs to breathe. He needs to get it together. He needs to be <em>better</em>. He feels ashamed for having to call for help the first week he’s living on his own. He’s supposed to be able to do this now. He’s got someone to take care of, he <em>has</em> to be able to do this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His heart breaks when his ears stop ringing and he can hear Cass shushing Damian, who’s bawling so loud he could probably still hear him from the roof. Suddenly, Tim needs to get out. He’s got to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He bolts out the door and runs and doesn’t stop until he loses his breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~ ~ ~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason’s safe houses are littered around Gotham. Tim knows where all of them are (give or take a few). He breaks into one the in Chinatown that he knows Jason doesn’t even bother with anymore. It’s got a security system that needs to be updated and there’s really only an unmade bed (read: a mattress with a few blankets and a pillow) and a fridge. There isn’t anything in the fridge, but it still works.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tim breaks the lock, the first thing he does it get a replacement out of the drawer in the empty kitchen. He sets it up in record time. He also manages to hack the security system and reprogram it to be a little more … well <em>secure</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sets up close to the door, moving the mattress so his line of view is completely unobstructed. He has one of Jason’s guns on the floor where he can reach it. It’s only got two bullets, but a hunk of metal makes for a pretty good weapon too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn’t close his eyes right away, watches the locked door like he’s waiting for something. For someone. He isn’t sure who. He isn’t sure he wants them to find him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a restless hour, he drags a chair over and slides it under the handle. He also puts a glass precariously balanced on the edge for good measure. This helps. He closes his eyes when he goes to lay down again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he wakes up it’s dark. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, there’s no clock in the apartment and he doesn’t have his phone. He knows he should be more worried about Damian, but Cass would rather die than let something happen to him and Cass was unkillable, therefore Damian was safe. Not the best mindset, but a soothing one, nonetheless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim jumps so high off the bed and points the gun in the dark so fast that he doesn’t have a moment to place the voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you even know how to use that thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim is squeezing the trigger, off to the side and away from the voice before realigning his shot in the general direction of the only other noise in the apartment. Footsteps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Out of the shadows emerge a very smug, very injured Jason Todd.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, don’t kill me,” he grumbles, putting up his hands with a grunt. He only gets them up halfway before he’s hissing in pain and grabbing his side. He doubles over, falling to his knees and mumbling swears to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God, fuck, Jay,” Tim hisses. He turns on the light and retrieves a medical kit from the kitchen. There’s no rubbing alcohol, but there is a couple mini bottles of vodka and rum that have the words “MED KIT, DON’T DRINK” written in big red letters over the labels. “You’re such a fucking idiot. You couldn’t have just said it was you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, where’s the fun in that,” Jason chuckles, hissing when the movement pulls on his wound. “Fuck me. That hurts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good,” Tim bites back. He helps Jason to the bed, letting him collapse when they’re close enough and taking no time to make sure he’s easy with his wounds. Tim will stitch them up anyway and Jason will be fine. He always it. However, it’s kind of hard to ignore the lingering panic that’s still sitting in the back of his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not that I don’t appreciate the hell out of you right now, but what are you doing here?” Jason asks. Tim doesn’t reply, just uncaps a bottle of vodka and holds it out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Drink.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While he’s distracted, Tim uncaps another bottle, undoes the catches on Jason’s armor, and pulls up his shirt. He dumps the whole bottle over the wound without looking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ffffucck!” Jason gurgles, spitting what a was in his mouth down his chin. “A little warning next time!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Tim hisses, using a paper towel to dab away the blood. He’s pissed Jason doesn’t have a better kit. He’s pissed Jason scared him. He’s pissed Jason <em>left</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason’s got a bite wound. It’s big. Bigger than Tim originally thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How the fuck are you walking around with this?” he asks, pulling the suture bag from the kit. At least, Tim thinks, he has that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not. Didn’t you notice?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you get smart with me again, I’ll shoot you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oooh, something’s got replacement’s panties in a knot.” Jason takes another swig of the mini bottle, but Tim doesn’t respond. “So, what is it? Troubles with SuperToy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“For the last fucking time, me and Kon are just friends. Say another fucking word and I won’t patch you up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bet you will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim glares. But Jason’s right. He will. Because Jason is his weakness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he sure as hell can make it hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without numbing him, Tim goes in, pinching the skin and piercing it with the needle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ow!” Jason yips, trying to move away from Tim’s callous hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim holds him down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop fucking moving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason goes still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sit in silence while Tim works, the occasional <em>fuck</em> slipping out of one of their mouths when a stitch goes wrong. Once Tim is satisfied Jason won’t bleed out and die, he gathers his stuff and starts for the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You never answered my question,” Jason calls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim stops.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason is laying out on the bed, getting comfortable. A cigarette is dangling between his lips. He’s feeling his pockets for a lighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you smoke, your gonna bleed out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Answer the question.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim sighs and slides down against the wall, looking at his hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If it’s not the clone, and Bruce didn’t have a black eye when I saw him on patrol, and Dickie’s stuck in Blüdhaven … then what is it, Tim? C’mon. Tell me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t have to tell you shit,” Tim barks back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you want to. That’s why you haven’t stormed out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t. Shut up, Jason.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Timmy,” Jason says. He tries to sit up but hisses in pain and falls onto his back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim’s heart skips at the nickname. Jason doesn’t call him Timmy. It’s just … it’s not something they do. Tim. Drake. Princess. Babybird. Replacment. Little Red. Little Bird. Baby. Never, <em>never</em> Timmy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t say that,” Tim orders. His heart it hammering.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Say what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t call me Timmy. You don’t … you don’t call me Timmy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok. I won’t. Hey. Hey! I can’t come to you. You have to come to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim realizes he’s crying, his breath ragged and his hands shaking. <em>Not again</em>, he chides himself. “Fuck.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gets up and climbs into the bed, sitting up next to Jason.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason reaches out and takes Tim’s hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s going on, Tim.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m hiding,” Tim admits, hanging his head and letting more tears fall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you hiding from?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I … I don’t know. Everything? Nothing? I don’t—I don’t feel safe anywhere. I’m just hiding from it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why <em>here</em>? Isn’t exactly the most secure place.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But no one else knows about it but you,” Tim points out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason nods. “So you didn’t want the Bats to find you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim shrugs. “Them. But also … Damian. Or –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t!” Tim jumps and looks at Jason, who seems to be fighting the urge to jolt upright. “You don’t have to say it. His name, you know. I don’t wanna know it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damian’s father. That’s who you were gonna say next right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but … but why don’t you want me to say his name?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If I know his name—” Jason takes a deep breath and forces himself to let go of the death grip he has on the blanket under him “—if you tell me his name, I’ll fucking kill him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim is tempted to say it anyway. He’s tempted to see if Jason actually will. He’s tempted to live in a world where he can’t be afraid of losing his son again, losing himself. He doesn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bruce told you?” Tim asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, he had to, didn’t he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. He didn’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. I kinda wish he hadn’t. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim quirks an eyebrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. Tim, I—I care about you. When you get hurt, I want … I want the whole world to suffer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason, I—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fine. I know you have Damian. I know I’m not right for you guys, but you should know that I’m not gonna stop looking out for you. Either of you. Even if you are with SuperToy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason we’re not together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, not yet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason.” Tim’s tone is a warning and Jason stops. He smiles. He feels a little lighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You aren’t crying anymore.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim reaches up and feels his face is sticky, but not wet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks,” is all Tim manages to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You too,” Jason replies. “You didn’t have to patch me up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why did you leave?” Tim asks, suddenly, only kind of letting Jason finish his thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you like me, why … why did you leave? When I woke up that day and I locked myself in the bathroom, you took Damian to Bruce and then you left.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I had to.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s not an answer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s all I got, baby.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jason, please, just tell me. Was it something I said? Was it something <em>Bruce</em> said? I’m not as damaged as he thinks. I can handle it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He doesn’t think your damaged. He’s just … he’s worried, Tim. Hell, we all are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You aren’t. You’re hiding from your kid in a dark and smelly apartment in Chinatown. Whose watching Damian, by the way? How long have you been gone?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop it, Jason. I’m fine. I’m … I’m coping.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, whatever you’re doing isn’t working. You need to get it together, see someone for real. Be there for your kid. Take some time off. Ask for help. Sooner or later you’re gonna run out of gas.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tim hangs his head again. He can’t look at Jason. How come he’s being so calm about all this? How come it’s Tim whose crying when Jason is the one who’s hurt? How come every time they see each other Tim has to face everything in the world he doesn’t want to?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll try.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not coming back for a while. I … I can’t really be in Gotham right now. Bruce wasn’t too happy to see me. I’d offer, but I doubt my help would do any good halfway across the globe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right. Where are you going?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason smirks at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why? You gonna visit?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up, Jason. I’ll kick you in the balls.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw, baby, then what would be left for you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve got an ass, don’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason laughs, like genuinely laughs, like ignoring the pain in his belly laughs. He lets it die out. He can’t let it go any further. He has to stop this, whatever’s blooming between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not looking for anything, right now. Just so you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Tim thinks he can hear his heartbreak in his chest, but he forces a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry. Neither am I.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason leaves the next day for France. Tim goes home and this time, he gets help.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Cope With It (Jason)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>SEXY TIME. </p><p>Sorry, yeah, there's hella sex in this chapter, sorry.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In July of 2004, Jason Todd fucks Tim Drake for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>Tim is barely eighteen and its hot out. Despite this he’s wearing leggings and a long sleeve shirt, his son strapped to his back with a wide blue cloth that only adds to the layers. Damian has been having trouble being away from Tim these days, so the only way Tim can get him to sleep is if he’s strapped onto his back in the Moby wrap. He’s making lunch for himself and getting dinner ready for later at the same time, making sure to move around a lot and sway so Damian doesn’t think he’s been put down.</p><p> </p><p>Jason watches them from the fire escape, encapsulated. He doesn’t want to disturb them, but he also needs to talk to Tim. He knocks on the window.</p><p> </p><p>Tim jumps a little, but not too high, not as high as he would have if Jason tumbled into his living room. He peaks around the corner and then comes to let Jason in.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a door you know,” Tim says, unamused.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to take a nap in your bed,” Jason replies like Tim hadn’t said anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m tired. I have patrol tonight. I’m working a big case. I’m scared my safe houses have been compromised. What kind of excuse do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your safe houses have been compromised?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason shakes his head. They have, but that’s not why Jason is here right now. He can’t have that conversation. “I just need to crash for a couple hours, ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim nods, his face having gone suddenly soft. He watches carefully as Jason shows himself to Tim’s bedroom. He doesn’t follow.</p><p> </p><p>A couple minutes pass of Tim pacing with Damian on his back before he decides to go for a walk. It’s gotten easier leaving the apartment these days.</p><p> </p><p>Jason hears the door open and close and relaxes even more. He’d crashed into Tim’s bed the second he walked through the bedroom door, but he was still a little unsettled having someone who might hear him screaming in his sleep ten feet away. Especially since that <em>someone</em> was Tim.</p><p> </p><p>He closes his eyes and falls asleep faster than he has in a while, exhaustion weighing in his bones.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tick. Tick. Tick.</em>
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</p><p>
  <em>Jason’s eyes flutter open. He’s back in the warehouse. This nightmare is common. Jason is almost used to it. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying. </em>
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  <em>Jason rolls onto his side. He tries to rise but he can feel a ghost of pain ripple up his body. His legs jerk and he slams onto his stomach. Someone is hitting him. </em>
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</p><p><em>He looks up. There’s a bomb on the floor in front of him. It’s counting down from five over and over again. This isn’t right. This isn’t how it usually goes. Usually Jason gets the snot kicked out of him and then Joker laughs and says something clever like “</em>Little bird’s got some broke wings!<em>” or something and </em>then<em> the bomb counts down. It never goes off, but it counts down, like it is now.. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The pain stops. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>Jason turns his head to try and see where Joker has gone, if maybe his brain got the dream messed up and was skipping to the end. He’s met with glowing green eyes. He’s looking at himself. Only it’s not him, it’s him when he was 13 and torn to pieces. It’s him with all the rage of the Lazerus Pit. It’s him who want nothing more in the world than to kill. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>And when his younger self moves away, smiling, he sees something that stops his heart. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>Tim and Damian are laying lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around their bodies. They’re both wearing the Robin uniform, laying in the same position that Jason had been in when he saw the official report of his death. Jason reaches out but feels the pain return. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t have them!” the other Jason screams. He’s cackling. “I already took them! I have them now! They’re all mine.”</em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“Tim!” Jason calls out. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“Jason?” Tim’s voice replies. His mouth isn’t moving. His voice is disembodied. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“Tim no! Come back! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! That’s not me!”</em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“Jason!”</em>
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</p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>“Jason!” Tim calls out.</p><p> </p><p>Jason is shaking when he wakes up. At first, he thinks it’s because Tim has his hands on his shoulders and is trying to rouse him, but he realizes it’s residual terror from the nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Jay,” Tim huffs, falling onto the floor. He had been kneeling beside the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Jason reaches out and touches Tim. It’s not soft or rough or anything. It’s him patting Tim, making sure he’s real. He looks around the room. Damian isn’t there.</p><p><br/>Without thinking, Jason leaps from the bed and tears out of the room. He’s throwing the door across the hall open before Tim can follow. The sudden noise of the handle connecting with the wall makes Damian jump where he’s sitting up in his crib playing with toys.</p><p> </p><p>Jason goes to him and pulls him out, wrapping his arms a little too tight around his body. Damian is confused. Tim is confused. Jason doesn’t care. He just needs to hold him right now. He needs to know … he just needs to know.</p><p> </p><p>“Jay? Jay, you’re scaring him,” Tim says, tentatively.</p><p> </p><p>Jason realizes Damian is letting out little chirps and whimpers to get his mother attention, to get him out of Jason’s hold. Jason puts him on the ground and lets him run to Tim and hide behind his legs.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m … I’m sorry. I just …”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine,” Tim says. “He’s fine. Just … just rattled. Do you want some tea?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods and wipes his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>They all go in the kitchen and Tim puts on the kettle.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, someone once told me you can’t burn the candle at both ends,” Tim teases, trying to lighten the mood while he pours hot water into mugs. He’s already given Damian a bottle of warm milk to calm him.</p><p> </p><p>Jason doesn’t respond, he’s staring off into the distance. Tim doesn’t repeat himself. He just sets the mug gently on the counter and waits for Jason to return.</p><p> </p><p>When he snaps back to reality, he thanks Tim for the tea and sips it slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want some honey? Sugar? Milk?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason wrinkles his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make that face. Alfred puts milk in his tea, do you make that face at Alfred?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason smiles a little. He’s not ready to say anything yet. He just … he needs to be close to Tim. Hearing him talk, that helps too.</p><p> </p><p>“So no milk or honey or sugar. You are a mystery, Jason Todd. No sweet tooth.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason smiles wider. He makes a note to bake his favorite cake for Tim when he can, show him what a real sweet tooth is.</p><p> </p><p>“Damian likes this show right now called SpongeBob Squarepants,” Tim says. He’s walking over to the living room and Jason is following. “How about you watch with us?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian is laying out on the couch. Tim picks him up and puts him in his lap before patting the spot next to him. Jason nods and sits down. Tim moves Damian again so he’s sat snug in between Jason and Tim’s hips, feet spread out and head lolling into Jason’s ribs while he suckles at his milk.</p><p> </p><p>Tim turns the TV on.</p><p> </p><p>After a while, Damian gets tired and falls asleep again. He and Tim had gone on a long walk before coming back to the apartment, so surely his little legs were tired. Once he’s out, Tim changes the channel to a local new outlet. It’s a habit, he guesses, turn on the news. These days, not much they can say upsets him, so it’s good background noise.</p><p> </p><p>“This ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods. He’s still not talking. Tim still doesn’t push.</p><p> </p><p>The newscaster is blonde. Tim hasn’t seen her before.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Early this morning in Burnley, a fight broke out among well-known vigilante crime-fighters Batman and Red Hood.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Jason tenses at the mention of his name. He moves for the remote on Tim’s lap, but Tim stops him. He’s watching intently.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Spectator footage shows the two getting into a heated debate while tying up the villain, Scarecrow. As you see here, Batman tries to pull Red Hood away from the scene and Red Hood draws his weapon. After that, the two fell into an all-out brawl that made it’s way all the way across the city to Crime Alley. Should we, as a community, be worried about the po—”</em></p><p> </p><p>Tim cuts the TV. He’s heard enough.</p><p> </p><p>“You were running away?” Tim asks.</p><p> </p><p>Jason takes a long time, but he nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Scarecrow didn’t spray you or anything, did he?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason shakes his head vehemently. He would <em>never</em> come to Tim if that happened.</p><p> </p><p>“Your safe houses <em>are</em> compromised, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t let Bruce in. As far as I’m concerned, right now, we’re on opposite teams. Stay as long as you like.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m leaving soon,” Jason says. It’s the first thing Tim hears out of him since he and Damian returned to the apartment. “I’m not safe here.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have the best security system in Gotham. Direct lines to GCPD and Oracle. My locks have locks. This is probably the safest place in the whole city.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. <em>I’m</em> not safe.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s hold on Damian tightens a little.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve never given me a reason to think you’d hurt us,” Tim replies.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t justify you waiting for that to happen. I won’t … I won’t do that to you, either of you,” Jason protests. He slides Damian’s head over so he’s leaning on his mother. He stands up and slips back into his jacket, tucking his hood under his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“You aren’t leaving,” Tim declares. He has this look Jason can’t place. It’s not concern. It’s not fear. It’s not even compassion. It’s … hunger? Not sexual hunger. It’s hunger for touch. Hunger for someone to be by his side. Hunger for <em>Jason</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Tim—”<br/><br/></p><p>“You <em>aren’t</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim stands, Damian falling undisturbed onto the couch. He takes two bold steps forward, so he and Jason are a breath apart.</p><p> </p><p>“I know what it’s like,” Tim says. He reaches up slowly, resting a soft touch against Jason’s cheek. Without thinking, Jason falls into it. “I know, Jay. I know you feel alone. Like this fear is yours and yours alone to bear. But it’s not.” Tim’s hand moves and before Jason can open his eyes again, Tim’s arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. Jason has to crane so Tim isn’t dangling, he has to tilt his head further to rest it on Tim’s shoulder. But it feels right. “You don’t … you don’t <em>have</em> to be alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason whimpers. He doesn’t mean to. It’s a noise he doesn’t often make, one he hasn’t made since he was brought back to life, but he isn’t embarrassed at all. He’s glad that Tim is the one to cull it.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason wraps his own arms around Tim, lifting him slightly off the ground and squeezing more firm than he normally would. Tim kisses him then. It’s the first time. It’s on the side of his jaw, just in front of his ear. It’s soft and Tim’s lips are wet. It’s perfect.</p><p> </p><p>And it doesn’t end.</p><p> </p><p>Not until Damian stirs on the couch and rubs his eyes. The two men jump apart quickly and turn all their attention to the little boy.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy?” he mumbles, his voice still riddled with sleep and sounding like he may cry.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah baby? You ready for bed?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods.</p><p> </p><p>Tim picks him up off the couch and cradles him, so his cheek is resting on the back of his head, his soft baby hair against his skin. Damian closes his eyes again and sighs in Tim’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t go anywhere?” Tim says.</p><p> </p><p>Jason shakes his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>After that the world moves too slow. Tim seems to take forever to put Damian down to bed, the little boy fighting sleep and afraid Tim would leave him. Jason grows more anxious with each passing minute and by the Tim time returns, he’s ready to pass out.</p><p> </p><p>“You ok?” Tim asks.</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods, knowing his voice will betray him.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. You good to pick up where we left off?” Tim is stalking to Jason like he’s a piece of meat and Tim is a hungry man.</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods again, letting Tim climb into his lap so he’s straddling him and resting him against the back of the couch. Jason groans at the pleasant pressure of Tim on his thighs, needing to ground himself. He clings to Tim’s hips and revels in the tiny moan he elicits from the younger man.</p><p> </p><p>Tim is leaning forward and brushing his lips lightly along Jason’s. The kiss sends shivers down Jason’s spine. Tim gets more bold, arching his back so he can touch under Jason’s shirt. His cold hands feel oddly good against Jason’s warm chest and he can’t help but moan a little loudly when Tim’s fingers brush his nipples.</p><p> </p><p>Tim smirks against his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Like that?” he whispers, repeating the motion.</p><p> </p><p>Jason has to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from getting any louder.</p><p> </p><p>“Bedroom?” Tim asks, sliding his hands down so they’re on Jason’s sides.</p><p> </p><p>Jason stands boldly, giving Tim a brief moment to wrap his legs around his hips before marching them to the bedroom with purpose. Tim continues to kiss him along the cheek and neck and collar and ear the whole walk. It makes Jason’s pace quicken and falter again and again.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a monster,” Jason grumbled once he got Tim’s bedroom door shut. He’s gripping Tim’s back tightly and burying his face into the junction between his neck and shoulder. He mouths at the sensitive skin, reveling in the noises Tim makes.</p><p> </p><p>“Could—ha, there, Jay … could say the same to you,” Tim replies.</p><p> </p><p>Jason throws them on the bed, landing so he’s crowding Tim into the mattress. Where his arms box in Tim’s head, he runs his fingers through the younger man’s hair, at first just brushing it from his face but then fully playing with the long locks. Tim closes his eyes and keens to the almost touch, baring his neck to Jason and whining.</p><p> </p><p>“Pl-ease,” Tim breaths. “Touch me like you mean it, Jay.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason quickly takes one of the hands tangled in Tim’s hair and moves it to cup Tim’s crouch.</p><p> </p><p>Tim moans.</p><p> </p><p>“There!” Tim yelps. “Yes, please! There!”</p><p> </p><p>Jason palms him through his pants, not creating nearly enough friction to get him off, but enough to get him hard.</p><p> </p><p>For good measure, Jason leans in to Tim still-bared neck and drags his teeth tauntingly over Tim’s scent glad. He feels Tim tremble.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop!” Tim cries out suddenly. His voice is still a breathy moan, so Jason continues to laps at the skin. “JASON!”</p><p> </p><p>The older man jumps out of his skin and pulls back quickly. He’s on his feet faster than he’s ever been before.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t go!” Tim whines, following Jason’s movements just as fast.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tim,” Jason says, backing away towards the door.</p><p> </p><p>Tim catches him by the wrist and pulls their bodies flush together. They’re both shaking.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jason repeats, forcing himself to keep his hands by his sides while Tim wraps his arms under them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok,” Tim assures him, shaking his head into Jason’s chest. “Jay, I’m ok.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did something wrong,” Jason whimpered, letting himself raise his arms slightly and ghost a touch along Tim’s back. “What did I do?”</p><p> </p><p>“My neck,” Tim says. “It’s something that Damian’s father did.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason finally brings his arms around Tim. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“He threatened me with a mating bite. I just … I’m still afraid I guess,” Tim mumbles, pressing his face deeper into Jason’s shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“S’ok. I’m sorry. I should’ve stopped the first time. I was too caught up in my head.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it. You did stop. You listened to me, Jason, and that’s all I can ask for.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason buries his nose into Tim’s hair, taking a long deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you still wanna have sex?” Tim asks.</p><p> </p><p>Jason thinks for a moment and nods. “Can I just … hold you for a minute?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>They stand like that for ten minutes, swaying a little and keeping their bodies so tight they start sweating. It’s nice, Jason thinks, to just hold him.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, I’m ok,” Jason announces. “Are you ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim nods, pulling away and looking up at Jason. “I’m better than ok.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason leans in and catches Tim’s lips in his own again. There isn’t the same fire behind it, but it’s building up behind their tender, slow touches.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get naked,” Tim says, smirking against the plumping flesh of Jason’s mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods eagerly, letting their bodies separate so they can tear off their clothes.</p><p> </p><p>Tim looks good naked. He still has that same air of confidence as when he’s in uniform. His thighs are plumper than Jason thought them once to be and his belly is rounder too. His chest is still a little swollen, but not enough that it looks like he has boobs, just like he has a son who nurses still (which he doesn’t). There’s a long deep scar across his lower abdomen in the shape of an elongated “C” which Jason almost doesn’t recognize.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to put his hands all over Tim’s body, but he’s afraid to make the first move.</p><p> </p><p>It’s while he’s staring that he notices Tim’s shoulders tense a little and his hands subconsciously going to cover his stomach. He’s looking away.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not pretty,” Tim whimpers, his voice a little watery. The noise is so different from how Jason sees him. It’s broken, it’s self-conscious, it’s hurt.</p><p> </p><p>Jason steps out of his jeans and walks up to Tim, cupping his cheek gently. He uses his free hands to take Tim’s palms off his stomach, exposing his scar. Jason locks their eyes together and starts to kneel in front of the younger man until he’s level with his small dick.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Jason declares, planting his hands on Tim’s hips and using the leverage to pull him forward and swallow his sex whole.</p><p> </p><p>Tim moans above him, his hands gripping Jason’s hair tightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason,” he whines.</p><p> </p><p>Jason pulls off with a pop. “On the bed, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim scrambles to comply, laying out and spreading his legs for Jason.</p><p> </p><p>“Good boy,” Jason coos, following slower. He’s still on his knees when he arrives between Tim’s legs. He presses his nose up against the lips of Tim’s cunt and Tim yelps. Immediately, the alpha pulls away. “You ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim responds with an eager nod.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to touch you here, that good with you?” Jason hums, his fingers tapping lightly on the edges of Tim’s pelvis.</p><p> </p><p>Another eager nod.</p><p> </p><p>Jason wastes no time at all and plunges his tongue into Tim’s wet folds, lapping up the leaking slick.</p><p> </p><p>Tim groans loudly, arching his back in a way that Jason thinks must hurt, but the noises he’s letting out makes him think otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>Jason continues his ministrations for was feels like an eternity, because Tim is eager to get this on with, to have Jason’s cock buried deep inside him, filling him just right. He lets out a few distressed chirps, squirming under Jason’s hold. In response, Jason pulls away and looks up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes baby?” he hums. His chin is glistening in the catch of the streetlight shining through Tim’s window.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up,” Tim demands.</p><p> </p><p>“Bossy omega aren’t you,” Jason teases, rising from his spot on the floor and climbing on top of Tim anyway. “If I were cruel, I’d leave you like this.”</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t,” Tim smirks.</p><p> </p><p>Jason responds by crashing their lips together and grinding his dick into the dip of Tim’s hip. He only gets a few thrusts in before he feels Tim’s heel digging sharply into the small of his back.</p><p> </p><p>“Ow, ow, ow,” Jason yelps, arching to try and get away from the pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Get on with it,” Tim growls sharply before releasing his hold. Jason always liked that Tim could bring any man to their knees.</p><p> </p><p>Jason smiles and slides a finger into Tim’s waiting hole.</p><p> </p><p>“Hng!” Tim groans. “Th-at’s not what I meant, Jason!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Jason whispers into Tim’s ear, his teeth catching on the lobe. “But if you’re a really good boy and you can take three fingers without cumming, I’ll fuck you as hard and as fast as you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim moaned louder. His eyes were shut and he was shaking his head, absently.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t, Jay. I can’t,” Tim whined.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t what, baby?”</p><p> </p><p>“Take three, ha, without cumming.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason thrusts his fingers harder. “You will though.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim is trembling below him and Jason is searching for any sign of discomfort in Tim’s face, any protest at all, anything that might tell him he’s reading his signals wrong. There’s nothing. Only pure pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>“How long has it been?” Jason asks, sliding a second finger in.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Tim pants, cracking his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Since someone fucked you,” Jason clarifies.</p><p> </p><p>“Not since …” Tim’s voice dies out and he clenches his eyes shut in something that is definitely not pleasure. Jason stops pumping his fingers and kisses the corner of Tim’s eye.</p><p> </p><p>“S’okay baby. You don’t have to say it,” Jason assures him.</p><p> </p><p>“Make me forget?” Tim begs.</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods. “I’ll make it so good you won’t remember anyone before me or anyone after me.” His fingers curl harshly.  Tim cries out. “You like that, baby?”</p><p> </p><p>“So good, Jay,” Tim cries out, the tears that Jason had been kissing away spilling. “I’m ready, please, fuck me!”</p><p> </p><p>Jason pulls his finger out completely. “Ok baby. Ok, I’ve got you.”</p><p> </p><p>He grabs Tim’s thighs and raises them up so he’s pushing the omega’s knees into his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Grab here,” he commands. Tim wraps his hands under his knees so when Jason has to let go, his legs stay in position. “Good boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason lines himself up with Tim’s hole and teases the entrance a little before sliding in.</p><p> </p><p>It’s tight, like hasn’t been fucked in two years tight. Jason has to pause a moment before he can continue.</p><p> </p><p>“Feel good?” Tim asks, his voice straining a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you feel good?” Jason replies.</p><p> </p><p>Tim looks at him, awe in his eyes, before slowly nodding. “Jason, you feel like getting fucked open by a <em>god</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s hips jerk at the praise and Tim’s breath stutters.</p><p> </p><p>“Harder, Jay,” Tim pants.</p><p> </p><p>Jason slams into Tim with all his might.</p><p> </p><p>“Faster, Jay,” Tim moans.</p><p> </p><p>Jason speeds up his thrust until the muscles in his thighs are cramping.</p><p> </p><p>“So good, sweetheart,” Tim cries out. Jason has to stop a second again, he’s staring.</p><p> </p><p>Tim hasn’t called him sweetheart before. There’s hope blooming in his chest as he thrusts again. He pounds harder and faster than before, clinging tightly to Tim so he doesn’t shift too much. He wants to be close, wants to feel everything Tim feels. He wants this to be perfect.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m close,” Jason grunts, pressing his nose hard into Tim’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep going,” Tim replies.</p><p> </p><p>“Inside?” Jason asks.</p><p> </p><p>Tim nods.</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s body is seizing and he’s emptying his cum into Tim. It takes a little bit, but eventually it stops and he goes soft.</p><p> </p><p>Tim is squirming underneath him, trying to push him off where he’s collapsed.</p><p> </p><p>“Get off, you big lug,” he grumbles, batting Jason’s shoulder when he decides he can’t move him.</p><p> </p><p>“Give me a minute, your pussy killed me,” Jason breathes.</p><p> </p><p>He takes a few deep inhales and pulls out. Cum and slick seep out of Tim’s hole.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t cum,” Jason points out, when he sits back on his heels.</p><p> </p><p>“S’fine,” Tim says, soft smile on his face. “Still felt good.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason furrowed his brow and moved back between Tim’s legs again, putting his thighs over his shoulders and lapping at the messy hole. Tim goes taut under him.</p><p> </p><p>“Want you to cum,” Jason grumbles, furiously thrusting his tongue inside.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take long before Tim goes ridged. His back curves up and his pelvis pushing into the mattress like he’s trying to escape the sensation of Jason’s mouth on his sex. Jason stays firmly planted, keeping Tim’s crotch tight to his mouth and abusing his hole while he rides his orgasm. The continuous sensation and sensitivity is something Tim hasn’t felt in so long. He has to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming too loud and he sprays a coat of slick onto Jason’s face.</p><p> </p><p>When Jason finally does pull away, Tim can barely manage his thoughts. He doesn’t think he can say all the things he wants to, so he only gets out a mangled: “Stay.”</p><p> </p><p>And Jason crawls up next to him, wrapping his arms around Tim and keeping their bodies close.</p><p> </p><p>“Anything, my love,” Jason whispers, kissing Tim’s hairline.</p><p> </p><p>They fall asleep like that.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This nightmare is different from anything he’s ever had. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It begins like a dream. Tim is holding his hand and they’re walking down a street in Gotham. It’s cold, or at least Jason thinks it’s cold because Tim is tucking his nose into a scarf and bundled up in a heavy jacket. Damian isn’t there but there’s something in the back of Jason’s head that’s telling him he’s safe, with someone both Jason and Tim trust. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tim is talking to him, but it’s hard to make out what he’s saying. Jason realizes it’s because something is covering his ears. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I can’t hear you,” he says. Tim furrows his brow and repeats himself, but the noise is still muffled. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I can’t hear you,” Jason repeats. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tim lets go of his hand and runs off ahead, a look of hurt and anger flashing his face before Jason could react. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tim disappears after a few long strides and Jason can’t move to follow him. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He looks down and the sidewalk shimmers under him, glossing over until Jason is standing in pool of blood. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When he raises his hands, there’s more blood. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He’s too afraid to look up, but he does anyway, like his thoughts don’t matter. Tim’s body is hanging from a lamp post. His throat has been slit. There’s suddenly a knife in Jason’s hand and he knows that it’s his fault, that he’s the one who hurt Tim. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He pushed him away and then he killed him. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>It’s his fault. All his fault</em>.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>Tim stirs when he rolls over in bed and there’s a cold, damp spot where Jason used to be. He’s shooting up in an instant and scanning the room frantically.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason?” he calls out, trying to keep his voice down in case he’s just in the bathroom or something. He doesn’t want to wake Damian.</p><p> </p><p>A soft cry comes from a corner in the bedroom and Tim notices a lump pushed into wall on the other side of the nightstand.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason? Are you ok?” Tim asks, gently, climbing out of bed to slowly walk to the older man whose shaking on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” Jason whispers, his voice cracking. He has his hands over his ears and his soft crying is forced enough that Tim can see where a loud sob is building on his back.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason? What’s the matter?” Tim asks, staying a good distance from him and sitting on the floor so they’re level to each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t,” Jason mutters, stopping his voice from getting too loud by swallowing a sob.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok, sweetheart,” Tim hums, he’s reaching out to touch Jason’s back, show him he’s ok, he’s here, he’s not alone.</p><p> </p><p>The possibility of touch makes Jason panic and he’s pressing himself harder into the wall, whining.</p><p> </p><p>“Dangerous,” Jason barks. “Don’t! Go away!”</p><p> </p><p>Tim pulls his hand back.</p><p> </p><p>“You aren’t dangerous, Jay,” Tim assures him.</p><p> </p><p>“Dangerous!” Jason yells.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no you aren’t,” Tim replies. He’s keeping his voice calm and steady. “You aren’t dangerous, Jay. If you were dangerous I wouldn’t let you in my house. I wouldn’t let you around my son. You’re not dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dangerous,” Jason whimpers. The cries are melting into his speech now. “Hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That was a long time ago, Jay. We’re fine now. You’d never hurt me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I DID!” Jason screams. He’s pounding his fists against his head. “I HURT YOU! I HURT YOU!”</p><p> </p><p>Tim is afraid he’s going to hurt himself. “Jason, please stop,” Tim pleads. “You’re hurting me now, you’re hurting me by hurting yourself. Please stop.”</p><p> </p><p>There are pricks of tears at his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy?” Damian’s voice comes. Tim hadn’t even heard the door open.</p><p> </p><p>He whips around and sees his one-year-old clutching his stuffed dog to his chest and eying the scene in front of him carefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey baby, everything’s ok, go back to bed,” Tim lies, keeping his voice steady. He’s thankful it’s dark in the room because he can surely feel the tears on his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Damian shakes his head and runs forward, planting himself in Tim’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” Jason cries, his voice so quiet and pitiful.</p><p> </p><p>“Jay?” Damian says, looking up at his mother.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok, honey, Jason just had a bad dream,” Tim hums, petting his son’s hair and sniffling. He keeps him close so he can’t reach out to Jason. “He’ll be ok.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hugs,” Damian declares, trying to squirm out of Tim’s hold.</p><p> </p><p>“Not right now, Dami,” Tim says. “Maybe later.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian still struggles and finally manages to get off his mother’s lap, walking boldly up to Jason and wrapping his arms around his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Hugs,” he says again.</p><p> </p><p>Jason is sobbing loudly, but he’s not screaming anymore and he’s not hitting himself, so Tim doesn’t try to pull his son away. After a few seconds, Jason is brave enough to wrap his arms around Damian too, pulling him snug to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jason manages between cries. He’s looking at Tim over Damian’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim shakes his head and slides next to Jason, coiling his arms around Jason’s bicep and pressing his cheek into his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything’s ok,” Tim declares. “Everything’s ok.”</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>Jason is out of the country for six months after he and Tim first get together.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell Tim and when he calls, Jason doesn’t answer.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>In mid-February Jason returns to Gotham.</p><p> </p><p>He stays in one of Roy’s safe houses on the edge of the city. He’s only in town for a few days, needs to do some recon on some gun runners going through his part of the city. Steph called him in to help and he only did it because he liked the kid and it was still his responsibility to look after his sector.</p><p> </p><p>He’s on a rooftop with binoculars when Red Robin is dropping in behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Before Jason can get so much as a <em>howdy</em> out, he’s kicked in the groin. When he’s doubled over in pain, Tim is pinning him into the ground, digging his knee into the space between Jason’s ribs. It’s a threat. Tim undoes the catches in Jason’s helmet and throws it across the roof. He raises a fist and socks Jason in the nose. He’s moving too fast for Jason to regroup and defend himself, so he ends up just launching the kid off and onto his side to get a second. Tim wastes no time in charging him again. His punches become more erratic and harder to predict so Jason ends up with a few more good bruises to complement his already broken nose.</p><p> </p><p>Black Bat and Spoiler show up after the fight has been going for longer than Jason is used to. Black Bat has Tim still in a second, wrapping her arms under his and clasping her fingers behind his neck so Tim is forced into a T-pose. Spoiler only has to put a hand on Jason’s chest to calm him down, pushing him a little away from Tim.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on?” Steph demands, throwing her hands in the air.</p><p> </p><p>“You son of a bitch!” Tim is screaming. It’s then that Jason realizes that Tim is crying. There are tears wetting his chin, more spilling from under his cowl. “I’ll kill you!”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t do anything!” Jason barks back. He takes a furious step forward, but Steph has her hand on him again. He doesn’t fight her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll kill you!” Tim wails, kicking his feet out. Cass sweeps him sideways and slams him into the ground, pressing him firmly down. He struggles wildly, but it only lasts a short while. The ferocity of his jerking is dying down and sobs are wracking his body. “I’ll fucking kill you.” His voice is quieter now.</p><p> </p><p>“Calm,” Cass barks, digging her thumb into the back of Tim’s neck. Tim sniffles and goes completely still under her. “Calm?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>Tim nods against the pavement and Cass lets him up.</p><p> </p><p>Jason goes stiff, expecting to be hit again. But it never comes.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, now that no one’s trying to kill each other, wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” Steph asks.</p><p> </p><p>“I was just doing recon, when bird for brains over there wacked me in the junk and started beating the crap out of me!” Jason hissed.</p><p> </p><p>They all look at Tim who is sitting up and trying to calm himself down.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate you,” Tim mumbles, pulling his cowl back and wiping his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t say,” Jason bit back.</p><p> </p><p>Tim launched himself up to his feet. “I HATE YOU JASON TODD! I HATE YOU!!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?!” Jason screams. “What did I do?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim collapses again, holding his belly. “You left,” he whimpers, clenching his eyes shut.</p><p> </p><p>Steph quirks an eyebrow and looks between the two men before realizing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh fuck,” she whispers to herself. She glares at Jason. “I shoulda let him kill you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Blondie, this isn’t your fight,” Jason growled.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right, it’s not.” She turns to Cass. “Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Jason can protest, Black Bat and Spoiler are gone.</p><p> </p><p>Jason isn’t exactly sure what to say, how to explain himself. He knows why he left, he knows it hurt Tim, but he isn’t sure that his reasons are going to be understood.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a fleshlight,” Tim snaps, tucking his knees tighter to his chin. “You can’t just fuck me and leave. That’s not how this is gonna work. You aren’t going to <em>use</em> me, Jason.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want that,” Jason declares, firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“Then why did you leave?!” Tim screams.</p><p> </p><p>“Because I was afraid!”</p><p> </p><p>Tim looks up at him, wild wet eyes curious, wanting him to continue.</p><p> </p><p>“I was afraid,” Jason repeats, “me being there would hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then you fucking tell me that. <em>Talk</em> to me, Jason! Don’t ghost me! Don’t make me think I was just something for you to have your way with and never talk to me again. Please. That’s all I ask,” Tim pleads.</p><p> </p><p>Jason nods. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should be,” Tim sniffles. “You made me cry, you big lug.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason comes over to Tim and sits next to him. He wraps an arm around Tim’s shoulder and pulls him in lightly. They stay like that for a little while.</p><p> </p><p>“We can’t be a couple,” Tim announces when he’s regained his composure entirely.</p><p> </p><p>“I get that,” Jason says, though a little part of him is breaking, thinking he’ll never get to be with Tim like he was the other night.</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t mean I don’t still want to hang out. Or fuck. Or whatever. I just … Damian is my first priority. I’m not getting serious with anyone until I know for sure they’re in it for the long haul, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuckbuddies then,” Jason teases.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” Tim chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“I can still hang out with him though?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Just … no making him breakfast or getting involved in his life. Not yet, anyway. If you … if we work out some stuff like <em>this</em>, then maybe—<em>maybe</em>—we can talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. Anything for you dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason plants a soft kiss on Tim’s temple and they relax into each other’s touch.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>It takes two years for Jason to start making Damian breakfast. The first time, it’s entirely on accident.</p><p> </p><p>Jason has woken up from a particularly bad nightmare. He’s a little sweaty and shaky, but he’s not disoriented when he shoots up in Tim’s bed. These days he probably sleeps at Tim’s place more often than anywhere else when he’s in the city. Tim is still asleep beside him, snoring peacefully and undisturbed.</p><p> </p><p>Jason feels bad waking him, so he slides out of bed and leaves the room.</p><p> </p><p>He must be in the kitchen, just standing there trying to figure out what to do with himself for thirty minutes when a door opens. Jason’s first though is that he actually <em>had</em> woken Tim up by getting out of bed, but then he remembers that Tim had taken a sleeping pill last night so he could ensure he got a full eight hours and was fresh for his morning meeting. Jason’s skin crawls a little and he crouches behind the cabinets. Small feet pad over the hardwood and Jason relaxes. It’s only Damian.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he doesn’t stand up. Damian is probably going to crawl into bed with his mother, which means it’s past time for Jason to leave.</p><p> </p><p>Damian doesn’t go to his mother room though, he comes into the kitchen. When he locks eyes with Jason he lets out a high-pitched, excited squeal.</p><p> </p><p>Jason is quick to cover is mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh,” he says, shaking his head with a little laugh. “Mommy’s still sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods his head so Jason removes his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“What you doing?” Damian asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Jason isn’t <em>doing</em> anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Hide ‘n seek?” Damian offers.</p><p> </p><p>“Kind of.” He smiles at the little boy. “You going to Mommy’s bed?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods. “Want milk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I can get you milk,” Jason says. He stands up and walks to the cabinet by the sink where Tim keeps the sippy cups. He gets the milk out of the fridge and scoffs a little when he sees it’s vanilla flavored almond milk. It’s the same milk Tim puts in his coffee. “This one right?” he confirms with Damian, just in case they’re out of what he’s used to. Damian nods. Jason pours it into a cup, tightens the lid, and hands it to Damian.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Damian says, immediately following his thanks with by shoving the nub of the cup into his mouth. He drinks with one hand and eyes Jason. When he’s satisfied he takes a big sigh and gets closer. “You make yours now,” Damian orders.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?” Jason asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy gives baby milk and then makes his,” he recites. It’s a routine. Damian is telling him what Tim does when he wakes him up in the mornings. Jason smiles a little at the thought of Tim narrating what he’s doing around the kitchen in the same tone that Damian is using.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that right? Well I <em>could</em> use a cup of coffee,” Jason mutter to himself. He’s trying to justify hanging out with his not-quite-boyfriend’s kid.</p><p> </p><p>He moves the coffee maker out from under the cupboard, so it doesn’t steam up the underside. He pours grounds and water in and pressed the “ON” button. The coffee maker beeps and Jason leans into the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s next, little man?” he asks.</p><p> </p><p>Damian is drinking his milk again, but he also is wrinkling his brow like he’s thinking about what to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Get dressed,” Damian finally says, his mouth still around his sippy cup.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, ok. You dress yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods. “Mommy helps.” He grabs Jason’s hand and tugs him into his bedroom. Jason wonders if maybe there’s a line that he needs to draw, a space of Tim’s he won’t go into. He wonders if this violates their rules.</p><p> </p><p>Damian is so confident though and Jason is just in awe of how he functions so well at four-years-old. He takes Jason to his closet and opens it.</p><p> </p><p>“You pick,” Damian says, pointing to the clothes that are folded at the top where he couldn’t possibly reach. “I get undies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” Jason replies. He watches Damian go to the little dresser on the wall next to them and pull out a handful of underwear. “How about just one,” Jason suggests.</p><p> </p><p>“I know that,” Damian snaps. “I pick mine. You pick yours.” He turns his back to Jason to inspect what he’s grabbed.</p><p> </p><p>Jason laughs a little and leans back into the closet.</p><p> </p><p>He gets down a t-shirt that says “Mama’s Boy” and a pair of shorts. He isn’t sure if Damian and Tim are going anywhere today or if they have plans to see people, but he figures the outfit is safe enough to be versatile and easy enough to change.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you still need help?” Jason asks.</p><p> </p><p>“You gotta take my pull-up off,” Damian explains. He’s whispering like it’s a secret he still wears pull-ups to bed. Jason has changed plenty of Damian’s diapers for this not to be weird at all, he doesn’t know why Damian saying that makes him nervous. He feels like this is the line. Definitely.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we’ll get your mom for that,” Jason says, laying the outfit he picked on Damian’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” Damian says, he seems to like that idea too.</p><p> </p><p>The two of them go across the hall where they find Tim snoring louder than when Jason left. Jason crawls into bed and shakes Tim lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Tim,” he says, gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy!” Damian yelps louder. Jason chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, your kid needs a diaper change.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm,” Tim groans, rolling away from Jason. “Leave me alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, baby,” Jason pokes, shaking Tim harder. He looks back over to Damian who has begun squirming where he stands. “He’s uncomfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Five more minutes,” Tim sighs and he’s back asleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Jason grumbles, low enough Damian can’t catch it. He turns to the little boy and give a half-hearted smile. “I’ll get you little man.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian pauses but nods, rushing back to his bedroom and throwing his pants off. By the time Jason gets there, he’s already laying on his back in the middle of the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“You really don’t like that thing, huh,” Jason tries to tease. Damian closes his eyes and pouts, shaking his head. “Woah, sorry there little guy, no need to get all sour face with me.”</p><p> </p><p>The whole time Jason is taking off Damian’s pull-up, Damian keeps his face crinkled. It isn’t until Jason has him stand and helps him wiggle into his underwear that he seems to ease up a little.</p><p> </p><p>“You still need me?” Jason asks. He’s a little more relaxed now himself. Nothing can be worse than changing a pull-up.</p><p> </p><p>Damian shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“What does Mommy do while you get dressed?”</p><p> </p><p>“Makes breakfast,” Damian almost whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. What do you want for breakfast?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian wrinkles his brow and thinks for a moment. “Oatmeal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oatmeal?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oatmeal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, one oatmeal coming right up.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason leaves Damian to finish getting dressed.</p><p> </p><p>In the kitchen he finds that when Damian said oatmeal he meant microwavable, pre-packaged oatmeal. Jason was having <em>none</em> of that. If Alfred were there, he’d have a fit and Jason was one of the only children who aimed to please him with proper dietary habits.</p><p> </p><p>Without thinking, Jason had gathered everything he need to make homemade oatmeal. Oats from the back of Tim’s pantry, sugar from the cupboard above the coffee maker, baking soda and baking powder buried under the sink, cinnamon from the spice drawer (which barely counted as a spice drawer because the only other things in it were hot sauce, red pepper flakes, pink salt, and black pepper) and milk from the fridge. He stirred everything together and threw it in the oven to bake for a half hour.</p><p> </p><p>This had been his favorite meal as a child, one his own mother cooked for him to have for breakfast before school. She could throw it in the oven on Sunday night and reheat it with a little bit of milk through the week. And when they had fruit or nuts or something, it would get thrown on top.</p><p> </p><p>Jason found strawberries and honey. He was confident that would be enough to convince Damian to eat it. Strawberries were one of his favorites and the oatmeal he had passed on microwaving was strawberries and cream flavored.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” Tim’s gruff voice came from the entry to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Jason jumped, nearly spilling his coffee and Damian’s breakfast over the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, I’m making breakfast?” Jason says.</p><p><br/>Tim nods, his eyes barely opened. He walks to the coffee maker and pours himself a cup, toping it off with the milk Jason left out and a ridiculous amount of sugar. Jason put Damian’s bowl at his booster seat but set his coffee on the kitchen counter.</p><p> </p><p>“I made oatmeal,” Jason informs Tim. “Do you want bowl?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Tim says. He’s taking a slow sip of coffee and making his way to the kitchen table.</p><p> </p><p>Jason spoons another bowl for Tim.</p><p> </p><p>“Milk, strawberries, honey?” Jason asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Milk,” Tim replies.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason pours milk over the warm congealed oats, stick a spoon in it and hands it to Tim.</p><p> </p><p>“Bon appetite,” Jason hums.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not having any?” Tim asks.</p><p> </p><p>Jason stops. He was going to dump his coffee and get out the door, but it sounded like Tim wanted him to stay.</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to have breakfast with you?” Jason asks.</p><p> </p><p>“I like when we eat together,” Tim responds, nonchalant as he takes a bite. “Besides, you worked hard to make me have a mouth-gasm, least I can do is return the favor.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure thing, sweet thing,” he teases.</p><p> </p><p>Damian comes out of his room and presents himself at the entryway.</p><p> </p><p>“Today I’m Super Dami,” he announces. He’s added a blanket around his neck to the outfit Jason picked for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Super Dami, huh?” Tim chuckles, dropping his spoon into his bowl. “And what are Super Dami’s powers?”</p><p> </p><p>“Superspeed and superstrength Mommy, duh,” Damian replies. This has definitely happened before.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh really now,” Tim smirks. He’s moving out of his chair and crouching like he’s about to take off running. “Is Super Dami immune to the Mommy Monster? Because the Mommy Monster is super fast and super strong too and he wants KISSES!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian squeals and takes off in the opposite directions, leading Tim to run after him. Jason hears him get caught in the living room, laughing loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“OH! I GOTCHU!” Tim laughs. He’s swinging the baby in his arms when they come back to the kitchen. “Now that Mommy Monster has captured Super Dami, Super Dami has to eat his breakfast to regain his superpowers. Ok?”</p><p> </p><p>“NOOO!” Damian giggles, squirming as Tim plants kisses on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you can’t escape the Mommy Monster,” Tim says. He puts Damian in his booster seat while he’s distracted. “Would you look at that, you’re already in your seat. Guess that means you have to eat your breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods, a big smile on his face. He picks up his spoon and starts shoving oatmeal into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Slow down, baby,” Tim says. “You’ll choke.”</p><p> </p><p>Damian slows down, but just barely. Apparently, it’s enough for Tim, because he returns to eating his own breakfast.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, Jay,” Tim says when he notices Jason is still standing next to the table. “If you wanna hang out, you’re gonna need all the fuel you can get, isn’t that right Super Dami?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh,” Damian agrees through a mouthful of food.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” Jason replies, settling in next to his maybe-boyfriend’s son.</p><p> </p><p>They eat breakfast together and it’s the last time Jason has a nightmare for a while.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I Need Help With It (Damian)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This was totally an excuse to write some cute Dami/Jon shit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian’s nightmares start becoming more frequent and terrifying when he is six years old.</p><p> </p><p>They are always about his father. They always leave him in tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy?” he whimpers, pulling on his mother’s sleep shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Tim turns out of Jason’s arms and cracks his eyes open.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey baby, what’s up?” he replies.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I sleep with you and Jason?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim nods and lets Damian crawl in between him and his boyfriend. Damian faces Jason so Tim can wrap his arms around his torso and Jason can pull them both close again.</p><p> </p><p>Damian nuzzles his nose into Jason’s scent gland and sighs. He’s a bit more relaxed and it’s only a few more moments until he’s falling asleep again.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damian is swimming. He’s got floaties on his arms and the sun is beating down on him. There’s sunburn forming under his eyes and the chlorine stings when it sloshes over it. Even asleep, Damian can taste the water. Can feel how it felt in contrast to the desert heat.</em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, little man!” a man calls from the edge of the pool. </em>
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  <em>Damian’s heart races. </em>
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  <em>“Come out of the water,” he demands. </em>
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  <em>“Swimming,” Damian says. </em>
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  <em>“Get out or I’ll get you out,” the man barks. </em>
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  <em>He doesn’t always have a face and if he does it’s not really one Damian recognizes. But when he looks at him now, it’s Jason who looks back. </em>
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  <em>He’s got a smirk and he’s beckoning Damian closer. And Damian comes closer against his will. </em>
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  <em>Most nights, Damian wakes up before the dream can finish. Tonight, it’s more intense. </em>
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  <em>There are hands taking off his swim truck and he’s left naked and cold in the motel room. The blinds are drawn but Damian can see there is someone outside. He calls out, but they never come. The man who has Jason’s face is picking him up and putting him on the bed. </em>
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  <em>“If I have an omega for a son, might as well make use of him,” he says. It had been a mantra, a repeated phrase Damian heard for months. </em>
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  <em>Damian can feel his touch, tries to squirm away, but the man is stronger. He cries and he cries, but he can’t wake up. </em>
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</p><p>
  <em>“You’re crying makes me like it more,” the man barks. “Keep crying.”</em>
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  <em>“Stop,” Damian whimpers. </em>
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  <em>He knows this is wrong. He knows this is wrong and he didn’t back then but he knows now. He hadn’t said stop then, he had let it happen, laid back and let his stomach knot in discomfort until it was over. </em>
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  <em>“Stop,” Damian whimpers. </em>
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  <em>Then man can’t hear him. </em>
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  <em>Damian can’t hear himself.</em>
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  <em>The world disappears and they are alone. </em>
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</p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>Damian wakes up, pinned to the mattress which does little to help his panic.</p><p> </p><p>“NO! NO! GET OFF ME! GET OFF!” he screams. The pressure that had been hold him down is gone in an instant and Damian is scrambling off the bed. He runs back to his bedroom and locks the door. He knows he’s not supposed to, but he does it anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“Dami?” his mother’s soft voice comes.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” Damian mumbles, crawling under his bed. He curls up around himself and he’s completely hidden behind everything he keeps under here.</p><p> </p><p>“Damian, honey, I just need to make sure you’re ok baby,” Tim tries again.</p><p> </p><p>Damian knows his mother wants to hold him, cradle him, tell him he’s safe and it’s ok now, but the thought of anything touching him makes his skin crawl.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away,” Damian whimpers. He hides his face in his knees. “I’m ok. Just … just go away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok baby, I’m out here when you’re ready to talk,” Tim assures his son.</p><p> </p><p>Damian tightens furthers. He can’t talk about this.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>The first time Damian tells someone about what happened to him, he’s fourteen.</p><p> </p><p>It’s his best friend, Jon.</p><p> </p><p>Damian wakes up at Jon’s house in a cold sweat crying. Jon wakes up with him, reaching out to hug him. It’s something Damian took a while to get used to, but now he’s raw and emotional and he’s just had a nightmare. He doesn’t want to be touched. He pushes Jon away and scrambles to the far wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Damian?” Jon says, gently. It’s a voice that Damian can’t help but melt into.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m ok,” Damian declares. “Just … just give me a minute ok. And don’t … don’t touch me, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” Jon says, sitting crisscross on his bed and waiting patiently for Damian to calm down.</p><p> </p><p>It takes twenty minutes, which is the longest it’s taken in a while (a combination of being away from home and being touched immediately upon waking up).</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Damian mumbles. “For waking you. You can go back to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok,” Jon says. “Did you wanna talk about it?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“You sure? Sometimes when my brother has nightmares, Dad says it’s good to talk about them, banish them into the air. If you hold it in, they swirl around and come back,” Jon says.</p><p> </p><p>Damian sometimes thinks that Jon sounds like an old man when he talks, that he’s a little too goofy and spacey to be a real genuine teenage boy, but then he’s reminded that Jon grew up with two loving parents who communicate clearly with one another and him. He’s reminded that Jon’s trauma doesn’t run as deep as Damian’s. His level-headedness is what originally drew them together.</p><p> </p><p>Damian takes another minute before getting back into bed. He lays on his back and so does Jon. His friend doesn’t press him to answer his questions, just lays beside him. When Damian feels bold enough, he grabs Jon’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Damian finally says. “Yeah, ok, I’ll tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to, Dami,” Jon assures him.</p><p> </p><p>“No. No I want to. You’re right. If I hold it in any longer … it’s gonna kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“That isn’t what I said.” Jon quirks an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Damian gives him a very serious glare and they don’t discuss that particular topic any further. Instead Damian sighs and starts from the beginning.</p><p> </p><p>“You know about my parents.”</p><p> </p><p>Jon nods. He’s known Damian his whole life, of course he knows about his parents.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you know my dad, the guy who got my mom pregnant, wasn’t very nice.”</p><p> </p><p>Jon nods again.</p><p> </p><p>“He took me from my mom when I was a baby. We were apart for a few months, but eventually he got me back. For, like, years, my mom worked on getting full custody of me. He didn’t want my father to even be able to see me ever again When I was four, a court took away his parental rights and Mom put a restraining order on him. He wasn’t allowed to be within thirty feet of us.”</p><p> </p><p>Jon’s hand tightens around Damian’s.</p><p> </p><p>“He was mad about it. He thought he deserved to see me, to be my father, so he kidnapped me from my pre-school and took me to Arizona.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was like four when it happened. Jason was overseas and Mom was working full time at WE. It was the perfect storm, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“He took you away?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. And that … There’s more, Jon.”</p><p> </p><p>Jon looks over to Damian and their eyes meet. Jon give him an encouraging nod.</p><p> </p><p>“My dad kept me for two months in a motel in the desert before Mom and Jason found me. And it wasn’t all bad, like he took me out for tacos most nights and we stayed up late and played with toys, but … but he also touched me. And I didn’t really get it back then, like it seemed sort of weird but after a while I just … I accepted it.”</p><p> </p><p>Jon is still.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess … I guess it happened early enough and long enough that it like, imprinted on me or something, because some days it’s all I can think about and I have nightmares I’ve never really been able to explain and it’s all a big jumble in my head. Like I have this memory of dancing with him in the motel room and he’s got his, uh, his hand’s down my pants at the same time. I know it didn’t happen like that, that they were two separate times, that he was two different people, but it all sort of bleeds together. Anyway, I’m sorry for waking you. I just—"</p><p> </p><p>“Can I hug you?”</p><p> </p><p>Jon’s voice is sudden, he’s been silent for so long that it’s unnerving to hear it fill the room. Damian nods. Jon’s arms come up gently around his shoulders and he doesn’t squeeze like he usually does. He’s being careful.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you remember” Jon says when the silence becomes too loud, “last year when my brother and your mom took us to the Halloween Fair.”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t called the Halloween Fair,” Damian states.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever, it was around Halloween.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fall.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Fall</em>. Anyway! We were walking through the crowd and Conner was holding my hand so he wouldn’t lose me, and I was holding your hand so you wouldn’t get in a fight again.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hardly think that shouting at a woman who cut in line at the teacups counts as a fight.”</p><p> </p><p>“It does. Now stop interrupting me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“ANYWAY! Your mom was pregnant with Izzie and was walking kinda behind us, so you kept looking back to make sure he didn’t fall too far behind. But we ended up losing him in the crowd anyway and you cried.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t cry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dami!”</p><p> </p><p>Damian pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>cried</em>. I was trying to calm you down and scent you ‘n stuff, but you just got more upset. And I thought to myself that was really strange because you don’t really cry a whole lot in front of me and when you do, I can usually figure out why and calm you down. You told me when we were younger it was because I don’t smell mean like most alphas and it was nice to know there were nice alphas. But still, you were so <em>upset</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“A point, Jon,” Damian says. “Get to the point.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Sorry. But later you told me the reason you were so upset was because it reminded you of the time you spent in Arizona with your dad. I thought you were talking about Jason, but now I don’t think so. And I guess what I’m trying to say is … where you afraid of me that day?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian shook a little in Jon’s hold. He nodded his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. You know I’d never hurt you right?”</p><p> </p><p>Damian nods again and sniffles.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s ok.” Jon scents Damian, pets his hair, hums softly. Eventually they both fall back asleep.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p> </p><p>Damian spends most of his young adult life healing.</p><p> </p><p>He works on positive self-talk and takes self-harm one day at a time and even works up to losing his virginity to Colin.</p><p> </p><p>By college he’s better. He’s not healed, probably won’t ever be healed, but he’s better. He can have normal, healthy relationships. He doesn’t have to call his mother every night before bed to make sure everything at home is ok. He doesn’t have to hurt himself to feel something. Not anymore.</p><p> </p><p>But then, like the universe needed to see how much more he could take, something happened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm so sorry for the mega awful cliffhanger but what kind of writer would I be if I didn't make you scream "Hey, fuck you man!" every now and then. </p><p>Promise I will have the next part up ASAP</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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